Callback
by adomaniccatnerd
Summary: 'You murdered him,' the river cried. 'Jump in and share his punishment' Percy gripped her arm. "Don't listen." "But-" "I know." His voice sounded brittle as ice. "They're telling me the same stuff." -House of Hades, 420. Percy never shared what they said. He never would. That was the day he learned- guilt is a double-edged sword. And the day he wished he was immune to the blade.


**Hey, guys! This story is going to be the first in a series I'm starting, called Mariam's Weekly Oneshots! I'll be posting a new, different oneshot every Saturday, so if you're into that, I hope I can write stuff you like.**

 **This right here is basically my interpretation of what goes through Percy's mind in HoH when they're forced to listen to the Acheron. It's sadder than what I usually write but I loved coming up with it. In fact, my family is sitting outside groaning at me because I have working at this for the past three hours XD**

 **Well, enjoy!**

 **I don't own PJO/HoO/ToA**

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Only Annabeth's hand in his reminded him to keep going.

Percy and Annabeth were running for their lives through the Mansion of Night herself. They were both blindly sprinting with no purpose and no direction in mind, other than _get away from the monsters._ Even for Tartarus itself, this was somehow a new, unimaginable horror. Percy couldn't even open his _eyes_. His instincts just told him not to, and Annabeth probably had some complicated explanation that as usual, he didn't know. He could hear the cackle of Nyx and her children, intertwined with shrieks and screams that made his very nerves tremble.

If Percy were honest, he wanted nothing more right now than to lie down and cry; let his mother hug him and fuss over him like she used to when he was younger. He wanted Paul to tell him, the same way he had so many years ago, that Percy was his son no matter what and that Paul would strive to be the dad Percy hadn't known for so long. He wanted the girl running beside him to cradle him and kiss him and watch over him as he slept, the lemony smell of her hair clinging to her like fog.

But Percy couldn't have that right now. He _hadn't_ had that in years and he'd been fine. If fourteen and fifteen year-old him had done it, so could the demigod trudging through hell right now. This wasn't just emotions- this was _survival_. Percy had never cared that much about his life to begin with (You learned to get used to that feeling as a demigod), but he had hundreds of people to live for. Billions, if you counted the mortals all over the world.

' _In that case,'_ the deepest, most insecure part of him whispered, _'you might as well call it quits right now. Let yourself die before you have to face killing all the others.'_

Percy ignored that dreadful thought and kept running.

It probably would do him good to be as optimistic on the inside as he was on the outside. He should try to make it into more than just an act for Annabeth.

He could feel her palm in his, slick with sweat and rough with scars, dirt and grime. Her breaths came out just as ragged as his did, and the familiar weight at his side that he was accustomed to had gotten so much lighter. The thought made Percy's heart ache. Of course, he probably didn't feel any different to her, but that was beside the point.

All those thoughts had raced through Percy's head in less than a minute. For any normal person, they would have to sit down and wait for the spinning to stop, but for his ADHD brain, it was the norm.

However, Percy had been so lost in those thoughts, his mind swirling with fear and confusion, that he only noticed the familiar tug in his gut at the last second.

 _Water._

 _Not a sea or a river- something darker and older._

 _Something that was talking._

Percy tried to stop, but Annabeth's momentum kept them both going. Of course. She wasn't the daughter of Poseidon.

He wrapped his arms around her chest just in time to avoid them both tumbling into whatever waters lay below. He heard Annabeth gasp and hoped it was from the shock, rather than that she had opened her eyes and seen something horrific. She strained against him for a second before collapsing into his embrace. Her breaths quickened, like she was scared.

"It's okay," Percy said in an attempt to comfort her. His voice seemed to relax Annabeth a little, and she fell into him for just a few seconds before gently disentangling herself.

"Thanks," she said, and her voice eased up some of the tension that had been locked in Percy. "Can you tell me what's in front of us?"

"Water," Percy told her. "I'm still not looking. I don't think it's safe."

"Agreed."

"I can sense a river," he went on, "or maybe it's a moat."

Percy dwelled on the tug a little longer, trying to take in the details Annabeth would surely want.

"It's blocking our path, flowing left to right through a channel cut in the rock. The opposite side is about twenty feet away."

He could see it clearly in his mind- ink-black liquid as wide across as a drakon, flowing with enough force to break iron. The rock surrounding it was unlike the smooth marble they'd been running on; it was jagged and sharp, able to cut like celestial bronze. The voices were clearer, too. No longer little whispers. More like wails, groans of torture calling out to Percy. He suddenly felt an unexplainable guilt that made him want to shrink away from himself.

Annabeth managed to distract him. He thought he heard her curse at something under her breath, before she said, "Is there a bridge, or-?"

"I don't think so," he answered, trying to focus on the image and not the rising crescendo of voices.

Actually, now that he thought about it, he might as well ask Annabeth what they were all about. Surely she would know.

"And there's something wrong with the water. Listen."

They were both silent for a few minutes, concentrating. Percy began to hear words within the moans and shrieks.

 _I didn't mean to!_ One said. _I never would have! Please!_

 _It hurts, it hurts so bad!_ Another whined. _Leave us alone!_

 _We never did anything!_

 _Help us, save us!_

 _Please, get me out of here, I'll never do it again!_

They were all screaming the same things, cries of how it wasn't on purpose or they would behave from now on, if only they were free. There were desperate ones in their too, pleading for the tiniest scrap of mercy. Hearing it made Percy sick. He wanted tohelp these people, if only to shut them up. It was almost worse than the Cocytus.

"The River Acheron," Annabeth finally replied. "The fifth river of the Underworld."

"I liked the Phlegethon better than this."

"It's the River of Pain," Annabeth went on explaining. "The ultimate punishment for the souls of the damned- murderers, especially."

Instead of going on like Percy expected her to, his girlfriend suddenly went silent. After a few moments, Percy found out why.

It had only taken a single thought- _murderers?_ \- before the voices all started shrieking at _him._

 _Murderer? You're one of us?!_

 _No, I'm not,_ Percy thought resolutely. _I've never hurt anyone!_

They began to cackle, and suddenly swarms of images rushed through Percy's head- every monster he had ever tried to harm, starting with the Minotaur when he was twelve.

The good old days, Percy thought.

 _That doesn't count!_ He yelled at them. _They tried to kill me first!_

 _But you still have pillaged and taken lives!_ They tried again with glee. _Join us! Ease our pain and share it! Jump in!_

Percy was about to retort with another scathing remark, when more images rushed into his head. Unlike the monsters, these images meant something.

Beckendorf, not even a year ago, had died saving Percy's life. He had perished in the same year he was supposed to go to college and had left behind a broken girlfriend and grieved cabinmates. Meaning that Silena was his fault, too. And all the demigods on that ship- their only fault that they had felt neglected by their parents.

Michael Yew and Ethan Nakamura, just a few prominent names in a list of dead heroes. Thousands of satyrs, naiads, and dryads that had gone unknown and unappreciated. Luke Castellan, whom Percy had mistreated until the very end, the man who had saved the world through his sacrifice. Zoe Nightshade, who had fought against the father she knew would kill her, whom he should have saved.

There were hundreds, maybe thousands of dead people in the Underworld right now who had lost their lives following _Percy's_ lead, helping _Percy's_ cause, saving Percy during _his_ quests. Every single one of them was thrown back at his face, there to tell him that he was no hero.

 _Look at all the people you killed. And you dare call yourself the hero? They would have been better off if you were not born; your father said so himself. You_ are _a murderer, worse than any of us. Come in, let yourself rest where you truly belong. You yourself cannot help but see your own path of destruction._

The horrible voices finished by throwing at him his biggest regret: Bianca di Angelo. He saw her in her floppy cap grinning, he heard her grave last words as she said _tell him I'm sorry,_ he saw Nico glaring at him and screaming _You promised!_

It was his fault, and he'd spent years telling himself otherwise. Now he was back at square one.

Percy wanted more than anything to jump in. Surely nothing could be worse than the crushing weight of his mistakes. If he jumped in where he belonged, it would all be okay.

Percy readied himself.

And then he heard Annabeth whimper.

It was a quiet sound- almost silent, but Percy had always been the first to know when she was in pain. He gripped her arm and found that she was shaking.

Annabeth was seeing the same things, too. The river had the same effect on everyone. Suddenly Percy was boiling with rage- both at himself and the Acheron. He couldn't let himself get swept into this, not after he'd gone so far. It would be an insult to all his friends who had joined Hades. Besides, anything that hurt his girlfriend was instantly in the _fight_ category. While Annabeth was an amazing fighter, probably more skilled than he could hope to be, she had never been much good with mind games and emotions. She tended to either shut out feelings or let them consume her, and neither had ever had a good effect on her.

He squeezed her arm a little tighter.

"Don't listen."

"But-"Annabeth's voice came out strained.

"I know," he interrupted, his voice harder than he had ever heard it. "They're telling me the same stuff. I think… I think this moat must be the border of Night's territory. If we get across, we should be okay. We'll have to jump."

Percy had come up with that on the spot, but he also knew in his heart that it would work. He couldn't explain it to himself any more than he could to Annabeth.

"You said it was twenty feet!" she cried.

"I know. You'll have to trust me. Put your arms around my neck and hang on."

Percy knew Annabeth trusted him with all her heart, but she was raised to think things through logically. He wasn't surprised when she yelled at him, "How can you _possibly_ -"

Annabeth forgot the rest of what she was going to say, probably because they heard the children of Nyx catching up. Percy felt a pair of slender arms go around his neck, and ignored the sudden panic that arised at the threat of suffocation.

Instead, he thought about all the blood the river claimed lay on his hands. He remembered his quest with Annabeth, Grover, and Tyson in the Labyrinth, when they had summoned Bianca with Nico and she had told them not to blame things on others.

Just because Percy wasn't a son of Hades didn't mean he couldn't draw power from the dead.

He breathed in and jumped all twenty feet. His toes hit solid ground.

Percy gently pulled Annabeth's arms off him, feeling a sudden relief against his will.

"You can open your eyes."

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 **Did you like it? If you did, please leave a review, I absolutely love them :)**

 **Remember I'll be back next Saturday with something new!**

 **My family's calling me- until later! :P**


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